


let it be (just had to learn to fall)

by 5uwho



Category: VIXX
Genre: Hitman AU, M/M, cw: cats., cw: dead people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 04:43:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17176130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5uwho/pseuds/5uwho
Summary: taekwoon has only been given an address. wonsik was only told to protect his boss's son.(written for vixxmas 2018)





	1. Chapter 1

A plaintive _meow_ caught his attention. Taekwoon glanced behind him to see a scraggly looking splotched brown-orange cat peek out from behind a pile of garbage. He hesitated, glancing down the small laneway where he'd been going, but the cat meowed again and Taekwoon didn't have a choice except to crouch down. There'd been someone else in the laneway but now there wasn't; except for the cat that had come up to rub against his leg. Taekwoon scratched behind its ears and the cat purred, neck stretched out as she tilted her head up. Her ear was jaggedly tipped like it had been bitten off, and a scar raked across one eye—she was a sorry looking thing that placed her paws on Taekwoon's legs, nuzzling against his side. She rumbled, pleased with the attention. Helplessly, Taekwoon scooped her into his arms and cooed to her.

"Pretty," he murmured into her ear. She meowed, as if understanding.

He hugged her to him and she snuggled against his chest like she'd always belonged there. Taekwoon's heart melted, he hadn't had a chance the moment he'd seen her. He sighed, and stroked her head. Except he still had a job to do. Well. He had no choice. 

The cat, as if knowing, fell silent—or maybe she'd just fallen asleep. It didn't take him long to relocate the person he'd been following. It helped that Taekwoon knew generally where his target had wanted to go.

She did meow softly when Taekwoon murmured a soft ' _don't look_ into her ear and tucked her face against his shoulder. 

The sound caught his target's attention. Which was alright. He was a small time drug dealer with furtive looking eyes. Taekwoon stared at him. Another man might have said hello, but Taekwoon was not another man. 

"What're you looking at?" his target barked.

Taekwoon blinked. They were in an ideal place. There was a metal door a few meters down, but Taekwoon wasn't too worried about anyone who might be inside and who'd hear the muffled gunshot. They'd rounded a corner, and they weren't at an easily seen intersection.

"Who're you with? You wanna mess with me?"

"No one," Taekwoon finally said. He resettled the cat so that his left arm was free, while he cradled her in his other like a baby, hand at the back of her head.

"Well get out if you know what's good for you! You know how many small punks like you—"

"I've killed seventeen people this month," Taekwoon said with the deadness of an overworked office worker. The corner of his lip quirked, and the man barely had time to register Taekwoon's quiet words before three bullets buried themselves in his head, throat, and chest. He didn't have a voice to scream.

The gun had been muffled, but the sharp shots were still enough to startle the cat—Taekwoon winced when her claws dug through his shirt when she jumped free.

"No, kitty!" Taekwoon hurried to scoop her up as she trotted up to the dead man to sniff at the quickly growing pool of blood.

"You weren't supposed to look," he said, cradling her in his arms again. He frowned down at her and she looked up at him with wide, golden eyes. Maybe she'd just think the body was a giant dead bird. Could cats be traumatised?

The door, unfortunately for the person on the other side, opened.

With a purse of his lips, Taekwoon shot them without a comment, this time keeping firm hold of the cat.

 

-

 

"Another one, hyung?"

Wonsik raised his eyebrows as Taekwoon walked in with a _third_ cat tucked against his shoulder. Baby and Pretty, matching brother and sister tabbies, glanced up from where they were curled up around each other, napping on the couch. 

"She looked sad," Taekwoon said defensively. "She came to me!"

Wonsik sighed heavily, but let Taekwoon lean forward to kiss him. It had been two years since Baby and Pretty had come to live with them; and then two sets of kittens had come and gone, fostered at their apartment. 

"Does this one have a name?" Wonsik asked. 

Taekwoon only hesitated a moment. "Kitty," he decided—he'd already called her that, and she didn't seem to mind. "I'm going to give her a bath."

"Good luck," Wonsik said wryly. "I'll get the first-aid kit."

"I won't need it," Taekwoon protested.

He didn't _need_ it, but by the time Kitty was fluffy and clean, Taekwoon had managed to collect yet another set of cuts that would scar. Wonsik swabbed them with disinfectant, and tried not to look too exasperated. Besides, if Wonsik had his tattoos, he guessed he could indulge his boyfriend having a...couple...cat scars.

"That hurts," Taekwoon whined.

"Better safe than sorry," Wonsik said. "You don't know where Kitty's claws have been."

Taekwoon huffed, but he subsided when Wonsik kissed him. Taekwoon was sitting on the bed in his boxers, and Wonsik gently pushed him to lie back then climbed onto the bed with him, the mattress sinking under his knees and elbows.

Wonsik kissed his lips and then at the join of his neck. Taekwoon tilted his head back. He whimpered softly in pleasure when Wonsik nipped at his throat. Wonsik's lips traced a line down Taekwoon's chest and down to his belly, lingering there for a moment on one of the few scars that Taekwoon had that weren't cat related. There was another, ugly and star-shaped, just above his elbow, and then another, fainter, from where he'd broken his wrist as a child. Where his wrist had been broken as a child. Wonsik had pried that story out from him—it'd convinced him not to ask about the other. Taekwoon was glad—because he was sure that Wonsik, professional 'personal security' as he was, could guess it wasn't from falling on the stairs. He'd probably seen his share of bullet wounds.

Sometimes, Wonsik's fingers would linger on it for just a moment, before he traced fading lines of scars and then the darker ones, and when the occasion arose, sharp lines still raised or scabbed over. The cats liked to sit and sleep on Taekwoon—the cats were also easily startled. For some reason, they rarely used Wonsik as a pillow. They could probably tell he was more of a dog person.

By all accounts, Wonsik was a menacing looking man. He was big and muscular in a way that Taekwoon with his lanky body wasn't. A quick glance into Wonsik's eyes gave the impression that he wasn't someone to be messed with (the same could be said of Taekwoon, although in a different way). The tattoos he was fond of imprinting on his body only added to the illusion. He looked like someone who would break your bones and throw you into a river without a second thought—not someone who was making love to Taekwoon more gently than anyone ever had. 

Wonsik mouthed down Taekwoon's collarbones, responding to Taekwoon's soft sounds, sometimes the blunt scrape of teeth only because Taekwoon craved it. Taekwoon craved lots of things, like Wonsik's hands roaming down his sides and along his thighs, pushing his boxers down past his knees, Wonsik's breath warm and damp against the tangle of hair just before his tongue would lap down Taekwoon's cock, slow and tender like he was afraid to startle him.

Taekwoon groped blindly for Wonsik's shoulders, head tilted back and breath coming short, and when he found it he squeezed with an urgency he hoped Wonsik could read. Wonsik's muscles shifted under his grip, firm and powerful. Taekwoon let out a small, breathy gasp when Wonsik worked his way further down, and Taekwoon was flooded with warmth. Warmth and safety, Wonsik's touches so careful, his mouth so gentle—always as if he was afraid to hurt Taekwoon, even when Taekwoon asked him to.

His skin flushed with the warmth and with pleasure, blood rushing through his veins, pooling and spreading. Wonsik's mouth—yes, but also his fingers against Taekwoon's hips, thumb stroking down the line of bone. It sent a shudder through Taekwoon's nerves and he whined with the sensation it triggered deep within him. 

There were days Taekwoon would urge Wonsik into fucking him but today he was content with Wonsik stripping his own shirt and jeans and cuddling Taekwoon against his bare chest. A few rough strokes brought Wonsik's own release; the smell of sex thick around them. 

"I love you," Wonsik said. His deep voice rumbled against Taekwoon's throat. No matter how many times he heard those three words—and Wonsik was not shy about it, and meaning it every time, it set a flutter in his chest bubbling with warmth, and a faint brush of pink unrelated to exertion.

"Mm," Taekwoon hummed.

He had to make dinner and check on Kitty, but it was hard to not cocoon himself in Wonsik's arms.


	2. Chapter 2

Taekwoon had his own apartment, but it was farther out from the city than Wonsik's. After dating for about half a year, Wonsik had given Taekwoon a key and told him to just move in, especially since Wonsik's place was closer to where Taekwoon worked anyway. His place was bigger too.

It made sense, since Wonsik worked as a bodyguard for some of the most influential people in the city.

Taekwoon, however, refused to give up either his coffee shop or delivery jobs, insisting he still needed to pay rent on his own apartment, and pay for his part of the groceries.

And, approximately two months later, for the cats.

For the most part, Wonsik had taken it all in stride. Taekwoon doubted he'd take the truth behind Taekwoon's work quite in stride, though. Not when the delivery service he worked for didn't quite deliver goods...but death.

(There was nothing nefarious about the coffee shop. He just liked working there. The hours were flexible, he got free coffee and baked goods, and it gave him a sense of normalcy since he'd been frequenting and then working there for almost a decade. Becoming a hitman didn't change that.)

Still, there were times work got a little...overwhelming.

" _Seventeen_ ," Taekwoon whined into the phone. "Wait, eighteen. I've had _eighteen_ in one month."

"Eleven of those were at once," the person on the other end of the line said, not at all impressed by Taekwoon's complaints. "And one of those were optional."

"'Optional'," Taekwoon muttered, toeing at the area rug. "The last time I didn't include the 'optional' one you whined for days."

There was a moment of silence that Taekwoon interpreted as a look of irritated disgust. Taekwoon pouted. 

"Fine. Think of this as a favour."

"I want vacation time."

" _Fine_. No jobs for a week."

"A month. And a bonus."

Taekwoon could almost hear the gritted teeth and smiled smugly. He knew he'd won.

"Write this down," was the clipped instruction—Taekwoon already had pen and paper ready to scribble down the address.

"That's it?" Taekwoon asked.

"He might have a security detail, but that shouldn't be a problem, right?"

"Name?"

"Didn't get one, but sounded like a single man. Just clear out the place, no witnesses. ASAP."

"A bonus," Taekwoon said firmly, and hung up the phone.

Taekwoon had come back to his apartment for two reasons. One was a spam text he'd gotten that meant he needed to make a phonecall, and the other was that he knew he'd agree, even if he'd put up a fight. He didn't like answering job calls in Wonsik's apartment, even if Wonsik was gone for a few days for work. He needed to restock anyway.

Ever since he'd moved in with Wonsik, Taekwoon's apartment had become more and more bare. Half his closet was empty, he'd brought his nice set of knives and coffee maker to Wonsik's place, and there wasn't much in the fridge other than a half-finished tub of ice cream and a couple bottles of beer. 

But what was here was a loose panel in the air vent, a false bottom under the kitchen counter, and a set of tiles on the bathroom floor that fell open when the shower tap was turned a certain way. Taekwoon's landlord was a very skilled man, to say the least.

Taekwoon retrieved his work laptop first. An offline map of the city meant he could locate his assignment to near the city center, in one of the new, glitzy parts of town. Completely different from the assignment he'd just completed. 

He picked a small handgun, and then as an afterthought, dug out a small explosive and a long, thin, metal wire. A drop knife. The fact he'd been given only an address and no further instructions meant that it didn't matter if it was clear the target had been murdered. As long as he got away, he could go in with guns blazing—metaphorically. He'd only done that once, and as fun as it'd been, Taekwoon really was more of the quiet monster-in-the-dark quick-and-silent death type. It suited him.

The prudent thing, Taekwoon knew, would be to run surveillance for a few days, but he'd been told 'ASAP', and he was looking forward a little too eagerly to a bonus and vacation. He could probably get some time off from the coffee shop too. Wonsik had mentioned Barcelona recently. They could go there.

He made a stop at home first to feed the cats and change the litter. Kitty had immediately settled in (after sulking behind the sink for an hour because of the bath incident) and was now curled up between Baby and Pretty. She was probably around a year old, the vet had told them when Taekwoon and Wonsik had taken her in for her shots. 

Wonsik wasn't home—Taekwoon knew that—and the apartment always seemed to echo a little emptier without him in it. The cats untangled themselves with varied languidity. Kitty, for her part, leapt to her feet and bounded to Taekwoon like a small dog, nearly jumping into his arms.

"You should be called Puppy," he laughed as she squirmed to make herself comfortable. Baby was next to rub his head against Taekwoon's knee with a pleased, rumbling purr when Taekwoon scratched behind his ears. Pretty had lain back down stretched out on her side. With a fond smile, Taekwoon rearranged Kitty against his shoulder so he could rub Pretty's belly. 

It was about noon on a weekend—there was a good chance the assignment would be home. It was as good a time as any. Weekday evenings could be tricky for these anonymous assignments. They tended to be out either sucking up, being sucked up to, or making fools out of themselves in general. He wasn't too fond of mid night hits. He preferred his sleep, and now there was Wonsik to consider.

Today would be good.

Pretty yawned and stretched out her entire body, legs and tail reaching far, before rolling to her feet. Kitty was curled up in Taekwoon's lap, so Pretty settled with pillowing her head against Taekwoon's lap, next to her brother. Baby pushed his head against Taekwoon's hand, urging him to scratch down his neck and under his chin and Taekwoon obliged. He buried his fingers in Baby's soft fur, and smiled contently when the cat rubbed against him, purring.

They stayed like that for the better part of a quarter of an hour before Taekwoon reluctantly dislodged them. Kitty meowed sadly when Taekwoon lifted her up from his lap. He kissed her on the top of her head. The past week had done her good. Nothing could be done about her torn ear or the scar across her face, but her coat was clean and sleek, and she was content and full. 

"I'll be back soon," he promised them. He filled their food and water bowls, and then added another bowl of water just in case.

He slipped his phone into a jacket hanging off the back of a chair, and back in the bedroom, he took off his bracelets and rings except for the one he rarely took off, the one Wonsik had given him for his birthday. Taekwoon smiled at the memory, at Wonsik endlessly flustered because "it's because you like rings, not because—" Taekwoon wanted to be the one to give Wonsik _that_ ring when the time came, anyway.

He was distracted. It wasn't good to be distracted. 

The gun was in the waistband of his jeans, the rest in the pockets of the jacket he usually wore for deliveries, and the knife was hidden in his boot. 

It didn't take him long to arrive. Wonsik, after all, lived very close to the city center too. He buzzed random doors until one opened for him without question, and armed with a flat package with a random name scribbled on it and the right address, Taekwoon headed up.

Someone had once asked him how he did it. What he thought of. 

He hadn't been sure how to answer then. The truth was: nothing. He didn't need to think about anything. After all, death was mankind's oldest friend and longest companion. Part of their basest nature. 

It was a sharp blankness. Clean and clear. 

Which was perhaps why it was so jaggedly jarring when a familiar voice and a familiar face answered Taekwoon's buzzer and call of "delivery."

"Hyung?"

"Delivery for a Park Jinwoo," Taekwoon said, like an automated reply system that hadn't been turned off in time.

Wonsik, dressed in a sharp suit which hid a gun that Taekwoon knew he had, frowned and glanced over his shoulder.

Taekwoon's pulse froze in his veins.

"There's no Park Jinwoo here," Wonsik said. "What is it?"

Taekwoon looked at it as if really seeing the package for the first time. "I don't know," he said honestly. He peered at the label, and then took a step back to look at the apartment number. "This is the right address."

It was a wide apartment, large and expensively furnished from what Taekwoon could see past Wonsik. It had large floor-to-ceiling windows and dark wooden floorboards polished to a shine. This wasn't the top floor, but almost, and the view matched. A young man dressed in a hoodie that had probably cost over a thousand dollars appeared around the corner. Two men, even burlier than Wonsik, followed him. The guy looked miserable.

"Who is it?"

"Delivery for Park Jinwoo," Taekwoon said again. 

"Not me," the target—he had to be—said with a casual shrug. "Wrong address? I think there's a guy named Jinwoo down on the third floor."

"I will reconfirm with the sender," Taekwoon said. "Sorry for disturbing you."

A noncommittal grunt that positively screamed discontent college student was all the response Taekwoon got, and then it was just Wonsik again.

"Sorry you had to waste a trip," Wonsik said quietly.

Taekwoon shook his head. "It happens," he said.

"Still sucks," Wonsik said, and then he smiled in a way that was entirely Wonsik-the-boyfriend and none of Wonsik-the-bodyguard that made Taekwoon's heart do a guilty drop. "But I got to see you."

Taekwoon nodded quickly, unable to meet Wonsik's eyes.

"You're working," Taekwoon said. He'd meant for it to be a question. 

"Yeah. I better go," Wonsik said. "I'll see you at home soon."

He left Taekwoon staring at the closed door. He'd never been more sure he had the right address.

_No witnesses. ASAP._


	3. Chapter 3

He couldn't get home fast enough. 

He fumbled for his phone before the door even slammed shut. His jacket fell on the floor as he dialed one of the only numbers he knew by heart. The phone on the other end rang once, twice, the longest five seconds in Taekwoon's life—

"Hel—"

"Hakyeon, cancel it. I won't do it. I can't do it."

A stunned pause.

"What are you saying? Taekwoon, you know—"

"I don't care, just cancel it, refuse it!"

"You know I can't do that," Hakyeon said, speaking over Taekwoon. "Not unless there's been some gross misrepresentation. His security detail?"

"His security," Taekwoon repeated. His legs seemed to give way under him and he sank to the ground. The cats were huddled in one corner, all three of them. Wonsik, smiling, saying _I'll see you at home soon_. The light glinted off of Taekwoon's ring.

"It's a problem? Do you need backup—"

"No! Don't. Just…" Taekwoon bit down hard on his lip. He pressed the heel of his hand into his eyes. Wonsik opening the door, _the_ door, filling the doorway, imposing, intimidating, ready to neutralise any threats to _his_ assignment.

Threats. Like Taekwoon.

"Taekwoon, calm down. What's wrong?" Hakyeon's words were gentle, and they seemed to hold some magical property that settled in Taekwoon's swirling, fragmented thoughts.

But he couldn't calm down.

Not when… "His security," Taekwoon said again, voice trailing off. He struggled for the right words.

"I don't understand, how many people are there?"

"Three," Taekwoon answered softly after a long, drawn out pause. "But…"

"Someone you know."

Taekwoon nodded slightly. Hakyeon couldn't see, but he'd known him for a long time.

"It isn't…" Hakyeon trailed off, and in the empty space that followed, Taekwoon found in them a rare apprehension. An apprehension that his guess was right.

"Can't you pull some strings? At least delay it, wait until we're out of the country, send someone else—I'll pay," Taekwoon said, almost stumbling over his own words.

"This is grounds for termination," Hakyeon said, and from the flat, weary tone of voice, Taekwoon knew that there was nothing Hakyeon would do. Or could do. "Refusal. Failure. You knew that going in. When you took your very first job."

"I know," Taekwoon said quietly. "But…" But that had been before Wonsik. Before Baby and Pretty. Before the one month, six month, two year anniversaries, before Taekwoon's birthdays and Wonsik's birthdays. Before there was anyone that _mattered_.

"It's not just being fired, Taekwoon. It'll go out to every single law enforcement agency, and—"

"I _know_ , who do you think did your dirty work for you?" Taekwoon snapped. 

"That's what you want? To be hounded by police, hunted by our men, living the rest of your life looking over your shoulder? That's not a life for anyone, and no one ever ran for long! You don't want that, and I don't want that for you either!"

Taekwoon's shoulders slumped, and he nearly dropped the phone. He buried his face against his knees, listening to Hakyeon breathing on the other end. Kitty meowed, small and plaintive. The tabbies stared at him, eyes unwavering.

"I… he's…" Taekwoon bit down on his lip, hard, wishing he could bite through the skin. They shouldn't have been hard words to say, not when they were true, so true. It was hard, because it was true.

Taekwoon squeezed his eyes shut, and his voice was barely even a whisper. "I love him." 

"Oh Taekwoon," Hakyeon said, and there was so much pity there that Taekwoon almost felt angry. "But there's no choice. Not anymore. Two days, that's it. If… When you complete it, the terms will be the same."

"Hayeon—"

"I'm sorry there's nothing I can do for you. It's better not to contact me until you've completed the job. Goodbye, Taekwoon. I wish you all the best."

"Hakyeon, Hakyeon!" Taekwoon yelled at the dead beep of an empty line. He threw his phone against the floor. It bounced once, twice, and then skidded to a stop face up, somehow unbroken, saved by its case. The case that Wonsik had made him get. 

As one, Baby and Pretty got to their feet and padded over to Taekwoon. Baby placed his paw against Taekwoon's leg; Pretty nudged his side with her head. Kitty hesitated several long seconds before she trotted over to join her new siblings—and clambered awkwardly right into Taekwoon's lap. Taekwoon couldn't help but smile a little, brushing his finger against her tattered ear. She meowed. 

Life was one, cruel joke. People said this was why there couldn't be a god—this was why there had to be a god, a god as human as any of them, a god who laughed at them. Fate on its own could never be so sadistic.

He knew the target couldn't be Wonsik's boss. A son, maybe. Wonsik assigned as short-term protection. His employer knew that the threat was immediate, hence the heightened security. The kid wasn't used to having personal security, or he wouldn't have been so disgruntled. If Taekwoon could just wait it out—

Two days. 

Or it'd be the same as failure. Taekwoon could run, maybe, but they'd wonder why. It wasn't a difficult assignment. He could've been in and out and done already. It would be, Taekwoon realised with a sickening drop of his stomach, too easy to trace it back to Wonsik. He couldn't do that to him.

"What do I do?" he murmured. All three cats looked up at him, three pairs of large, wide eyes, none of them with any answers. 

He rested his hand on Kitty's head, feeling her rumbling pur. He alternated between scratching behind Pretty's ears and under Baby's chin, not enough hands to pet all three of them at once. 

The sun was falling, shadows growing long, light growing dim. Before long, it was night. A deep night, except for the time on the stove, the faint green from a laptop charging cable. He stood, dislodging Kitty—he barely blinked when her claws dug into his legs before she jumped away.

Two days, but the result would be the same.

Taekwoon clothed himself in the darkness and wrapped the night about himself as he walked into it, acquainted with an old friend. It had been a long time.

He traced his journey from earlier in the day when the sun had still been high, when people had still walked through the streets, unaware that death walked among them. There was always death among them. Mankind's oldest companion.

His mind was a haze, not blank, not empty. He couldn't empty it. It buzzed, instead, insistent and consistent. He didn't need the legitimacy of daytime—didn't need someone to open the door. He took the elevator up and winced at the beep when he arrived at the right floor. But late night visitors wouldn't be rare to a place like this.

Taekwoon pulled a hat and a face mask out of his pockets, and then tugged the hat low over his eyes. His tools weighed down on him, and he felt for his gun, reassuring in its usual place.

It was time.

This time, he didn't knock on the door. He let himself in—immediately setting off the security alarm. Taekwoon swore silently, shutting the door behind him. He pressed himself against the wall.

"Who's there!?" an unfamiliar voice called out.

"Probably a rat or something," said another voice Taekwoon didn't know.

Footsteps neared him, trying to be sneaky. Announcing exactly where he was.

Taekwoon stepped out and fired two quick shots. The first one missed. The second didn't.

They were muffled shots, but enough to bring the other two men running. Including Wonsik.

"Shit, stay near him, I'll take care of this!" Wonsik yelled. He knew at a glance that his colleague was dead.

"Don't tell me what to do, rookie—" and that was _rude_ , Wonsik wasn't a rookie, Wonsik probably was better than both of them put together. Taekwoon killed him first, just to prove it, stopping him in his tracks as he lunged for Taekwoon. 

It was just him and Wonsik now.

Taekwoon had never seen Wonsik like this. Cold anger. There was no fear, even with two colleagues dead at his feet.

"Drop your weapon," Wonsik said, cool and steady. He walked closer too Taekwoon, and even in the darkness, Taekwoon could see the outline of Wonsik's bulletproof vest. It was why he'd shot the other two in the head. 

The moment he spoke, Wonsik would know who he was. 

Taekwoon didn't drop his weapon. Taekwoon charged.

He pulled out his knife, saw the flicker of surprise in Wonsik's eyes, winced as one of Wonsik's shots nicked his shoulder. They rang out, loud, sharp cracks undisguised. That half a second of surprise, delay, was all Taekwoon needed to get an arm around Wonsik's neck. To press the blade against his throat. 

It would be so easy to draw the knife across his victim's throat—Taekwoon had done it so many times before. But never before was the hand gripping at Taekwoon's wrist a familiar one. Never before was the faint scent of fear mixed in with one that had given Taekwoon comfort when he'd been lost and with none. He'd known, from the start, he wouldn't have been able to do it.

He slashed the knife downward. It slid off the vest, caught at Wonsik's arm.

He shouldn't have, he really shouldn't have, but: "I'm sorry," he whispered into Wonsik's ear, before he knocked him unconscious and tossed him to the floor. Unlike the two corpses, he was still breathing. Taekwoon couldn't tell if he'd imagined that jerk of recognition. 

The apartment echoed in the absence of chaos. He stalked through the halls like a panther in the darkness. A very faint glow came from under one of the doors. Taekwoon broke it open.

The kid had a gun. It was pointed at Taekwoon. He was terrified, his hands shaking. The light had been from his phone.

" _Hello? Hello?_ " 

If Taekwoon were kind, he might've let the kid have a last word or two. He wasn't. He shot him, three times, right in the chest. His assignment slumped down, the acrid smell of blood and piss surrounding him.

 _Dad_ was on the phone. Taekwoon shot it, cutting out the man's desperate screams. People would be here soon.

He walked back into the living room and looked down at Wonsik. He was bleeding, but alive. His shirt was torn. Taekwoon knelt down next to him, felt for his pulse, and for the last time, kissed him gently on his forehead.

And then he shot him too. Once. Right in the chest. 

Taekwoon fled.

An explosion shook the room, moments after Taekwoon was gone. It would bring people running. It would've blown out the windows. The door wasn't locked.

He would've run home, but a small, sad sound stopped him in his tracks. A scrappy black kitten in a cardboard box.

Taekwoon picked her up, and cradled her to his chest.

 

 

-

 

 

They discharged him from the hospital after two days. The vest had saved his life, although the near distance of the shot had left his ribs fractured, an ugly green and purple patch on his chest. His other cuts were minor. He'd been knocked out cold by the explosion.

It had all happened so fast that no one knew the explosion had happened after it all, that Wonsik had been unconscious before it'd been set.

Wonsik couldn't bring himself to tell anyone.

He'd limped home, and was struck by a horrible, hollow emptiness the moment he'd stepped through the door. Later, he'd find that Taekwoon's own apartment had been emptied, just as Taekwoon had disappeared from Wonsik's home without a trace.

Even Kitty was gone.

But it was still three cats that greeted him.

She was shy, and Wonsik didn't see her at first. He saw the note on the table where they'd eaten together so many times, Taekwoon's cooking. The words had been written carefully, neater than Wonsik had ever seen Taekwoon write. The paper was wrinkled—tears that he hadn't bothered to wipe away. 

_You can name her this time. But not after me_ , was all it said. But on the back, scrawled, as if an afterthought, were three tiny words.

_I love you._

Wonsik couldn't help it. He couldn't help the tears, couldn't help the sobs that wracked through his body, his battered ribs. Their cats came to him, and hugged them, one in each arm, crying until their fur was damp. He suddenly missed Kitty too, even if he'd only known her for a few days. It was already too strange to not have more cats to hold than he had hands.

That was when he saw her, a black shadow peeking around the corner in curiosity. 

Taekwoon's note was lying on the floor, face up, and Wonsik finally understood. He couldn't help the broken laugh that escaped him. 

Taekwoon had disappeared, but he hadn't, all at the same time.

"Come here, Silly," Wonsik said. The cat hesitated a moment, and then she walked, slowly and carefully, right up to Wonsik. He couldn't name her Taekwoon, but Taekwoon couldn't stop him from naming the cat after him, at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're the ones who had it all // we just had to learn to fall


End file.
